


Do Not Let Them See You Shudder

by flipflop_diva



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Gang Rape, Multi, Prisoner of War, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 16:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16122782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: It was a game she played. Keep control. Keep surviving. No matter what they did to her.





	Do Not Let Them See You Shudder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dread_persephone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dread_persephone/gifts).



> Written for the Darkest Night 2018 exchange. Based on this prompt: _Any of the characters being forced into prostitution/sexual slavery after winning their games - for Finnick and Johanna, after their own games, for Katniss an AU where she was the sole survivor._
> 
> As such, this is a pretty dark fic. But I loved the idea of what happened if winning the Games was even worse than it was in canon. It feels a little wrong to say I hope anyone enjoys this, but I do hope you like it.

The hands of the first one were cold, but she had learned long ago how not to shiver at their touch. Instead she closed her eyes. None of them were looking at her face anyway. They were watching the hands now parting her backside, watching the fingers stroking down the crack of her ass, spreading her wide. Soon, they would be watching as the fingers rubbed her, then entered her, and not long after that, they would be watching as the man’s cock followed suit.

The crowd would cheer then, scream and holler like they were still rooting for contestants in the Games, and their yells would only get louder until the man behind her climaxed in ecstasy.

Then the next one would take over, and it would start all over again. It’s how it always went. Over and over and over, for hours at a time.

Of course, there was some variety. Some like to pinch her nipples and grope her breasts as they came inside her. Some liked to pull her hair. Some even like to come in her cunt and not in her ass. And one or two liked to rub hard at her clit as they pounded into her, fingers always rough, until her body would spams beneath them and they would laugh and the crowd would scream in delight.

Most of the orgasms she pretended to give weren’t real — she had learned long ago how to fake them — but sometimes, especially when the men had their fingers on her clit and their cocks in her cunt, they would hit a certain spot and there would be nothing she could do as her body shook and her muscles clenched around the dick inside her.

She hated those times the most. They almost felt like she was losing some sort of secret battle she played with the men each time the Capitol came to get her. The Capitol would dress her up in their finest material, check her over to make sure her skin was flawless and gleaming, would deliver her to whoever had written the biggest check that night.

The men — sometimes it was women, but most of the time it was men — would often command her to undress, though some liked to do it themselves. They would look her over as she stood there, stock still. The game was not to move, not to flinch, not to react. She won if she could manage that. She lost if she couldn’t.

It was that simple. They had taken everything from her — her home, her family, her life and now her body. The one thing she had left was the game of control, and she was not willing to give that up. She wasn’t sure who she would become if she did.

•••

It was quiet in the apartment she shared with Johanna Mason. Johanna had been through this for far longer than Katniss. Years actually. For Katniss, it hadn’t even been a year, even if it felt like a lifetime. 

Sometimes, when Katniss really thought about it, she was amazed Johanna had survived so long. Even more so, she was amazed by Johanna’s strength. She didn’t talk about it much, but none of them did. They all just did what they had to.

Far below them, down in the streets, Katniss could hear pounding and clanging and the rising of voices now and then. Her heart clenched in her chest, even though she didn’t want it to. She knew what those sounds meant, even if she hadn’t heard them before.

They were constructing the stage where the new Tributes would wait to be introduced to the Capitol. Out in the Districts, even now as she and Johanna sat in their apartment waiting for nightfall and the Capitol to come get them for their respective encounters with whoever wanted them, young men and women were being chosen to take their place in the Games. Soon, those same young men and women would be paraded through the streets and then forced into the Arena, and in the end, two of the so-called lucky ones would be here, in the same building as her and Johanna and all the others, living their new life as prisoners of the Capitol.

Sometimes Katniss wondered, if she had known in those seconds before she stuck the knife in Peeta’s throat, watching him bleed out at her feet as the chimes sounded and the loudspeaker announced her the victor, that she wouldn’t be going home, that she would instead trade her life for her family’s — for her sister, for her mother — if she would have instead let Peeta win, let him take the honor while she let it all end.

But somewhere deep inside her, she knew the truth. Even when she woke up, screaming from nightmares, or was awoken by Johanna doing the same, down the hall in her own room, she knew she wouldn’t have made a different choice. It had always been about survival. It still was.

Her own. Her sister’s. Her mother’s.

She did this, and her family was safe. Protected. They had been given a nice house. They were given food, luxuries. They would never suffer again. Never want again. 

It was worth. Whatever she had to do. Whatever she had to endure.

Sometimes, like today, listening to the sounds of the stage being constructed, she imagined a different future, one where the districts rose up, turned against the Capitol. A future where she could be free.

But as soon as those thoughts popped into her head, she pushed them away. There would be no rebellion. No saviors. Nothing but this life she had, here in the Capitol, protecting her sister and her mother.

It was the price she paid for surviving. 

Down below, someone shouted. She couldn’t make out the words, but she could hear the cheer the followed. The time was drawing closer. The Tributes were about to arrive.

The elevator doors in their apartment slid open. Both she and Johanna instantly got to their feet.

It was time for them to play their part. Time to get dressed in their finest, to head down to their buyers, to stand in front of whatever gathering there would be as the guests touched their breasts and their cunts and their asses and their clits, and took them over and over and over.

It was time to play her own game. Keep control, keep her family safe.

There were worse games she could play.


End file.
